The Mabel Parable
by YellowRubix
Summary: He knew she was was going to go out there, all he had to do was wait. The only mistake he made was believing she thought more like him. Mabel and Bill. Set during 'Sock Opera.'


**Title: **The Mabel Parable  
**Rating: **K+  
**Type: **One-shot

**Inspiration(s): **Character studies from a unique point of view, "character foil" in literature, and Bill's entry about Mabel in "Dipper and Mabel's Guide to Mystery and Nonstop Fun!". Also, it's both weird and cool that something Bill said resulted in positive character development for Mabel. I just really appreciate their interactions.

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Gravity Falls.**

* * *

"Quality is never an accident. It is always the result of intelligent effort."  
\- John Ruskin

* * *

***~ The Beginning**

The slap to the side of Bill's face rang loud enough to reach the auditorium. The din even carried up to where Stan Pines was currently filming them, ready to post it on whatever means of mass communication humans used nowadays. Several people in the front row gasped and awww'd. And were a few of them chanting her incorrect name? Bill was too livid to notice. Apparently, getting the upper hand on a little girl with a mean right hook (he could personally attest to that) was taking up all his attention.

Had she really just bashed him in the face? With the _journal_?

Shooting Star fought dirty. He knew that 'journal shots' were illegal... somewhere! They were in the galaxy humans dubbed IC 1101 anyway.

If Bill had to pick the one 'Mystery Twin' who surprised him the most, it had to be Mabel- _Shooting Star_\- Pines. It was only every millennium or so that a human dared to _physically_ attack him afterall; and she had done so both times they'd come face to face during the initial few _minutes_. The first time had been unsuccessful for her, but hilarious for him; since he got to play a little vore tag with her. The second time had been-

He narrowed his eyes.

_Successful_.

All this was just a minor setback though. Because they couldn't possibly hope to win against him. He was omnipresent and omnipotent! That stuff was serious business, ya know. How could they even hope to defeat an all-seeing entity, who controlled everything? Who had mapped out every facet of his plans; which included that he knew Short-Stack would wind up in jail. That temporary alliance didn't hold any consequence, he knew that deal would go south. What he didn't anticipate was the manner it fell through; or what was happening right now.

It was when she actually managed to goad him into chasing her around the stage (seriously, could this stuff get anymore _kindergarten_? What was next, hair-pulling?) that he realized his mistake;

He had actually been outsmarted. By the most unexpected person of all.

And Bill was furious. Yet mildly impressed. That being said, not _once_ did he volunteer to be part of her 'Big Finish' by the way!

It was when he retreated to the mindscape that he did something he hadn't had to do in a long time; he reflected.

When he'd read into her thoughts back in Stan Pines' mindscape, it had only taken an eighth of a picosecond to figure her out. Which was even shorter to him, considering his own lifespan. But when she'd stared back at him all defiant-like; questioning the extent of his power and his vast, _superior_ mind. Well, the only thing he could think of was: challenge accepted.

Admittedly, things hadn't gone according to his plan after that. No problem though- if he really wanted he could wipe everyone's memories and replace them with his own fabrication, making _him_ look like the victor...! But where was the fun in that? Besides, he didn't have to wait long for a second chance. Pine Tree couldn't stop playing with fire; no matter how many times he, his family and friends got burned. It was hilarious how humans never seemed to learn from past mistakes, despite how they boasted the opposite.

* * *

***~ The Parable**

After he parted ways with Shooting Star backstage and spoke with that monstrosity she called a friend, he'd found out where the journal was stashed. Meanwhile, his 'sister' had disappeared into her dressing room.

He knew _exactly_ where the journal was and still, he hesitated.

He was two steps from the ladder which led up to the catwalk. Approximately 6.39 minutes later Shooting Star sped by him in a flurry of pink clothing and brunette curls. Pine Tree must have finally figured out how vessels work and filled her in on what was going on. She hadn't even noticed him standing there- only partially obscured by the shadows behind the curtains.

She was so easily distracted and apparently suffered from tunnel vision. His yellow eyes glowed in the darkness, slit pupils following her until she disappeared from sight. They flickered once then dimmed. Still, he took his time climbing the stairs. He wasn't sure _why _he was giving her a head start oddly. He had been _two steps _from the ladder. He could have already claimed the journal for himself before she had even realized what was happening. He should have, but a small inkling wasn't letting him.

He knew Shooting Star would go out there. Even if she didn't truly grasp the risk of doing so while he was lurking somewhere unknown. The Pines siblings were eccentric- especially the girl, but even she wouldn't leave her brother out to dry. Although they were technically still fighting (something Bill had capitalized on perfectly) the Pines stuck together when things got rough.

When he had her trapped; suspended above her play, he realized why he'd let her get ahead of him. He wanted to see what she would do when faced with her own dilemma. He had played this game earlier with Pine Tree, and the kid had done exactly what Bill expected. Duress and every form of stress listed in modern jargon had been contributing factors, and Bill had anticipated them all before the kid made his choice and sealed his own fate.

Now it was _her _turn. What was Shooting Star going to do?

Deciding to humour her with a 'cheat sheet,' he broke down her options: a) Mabel does the dumb thing and defies him. In which case she receives certain injury via a long plummet and ruins the very play she'd worked so hard on (he was almost jealous, his fall down the stairs had been over an hour ago!); b) Mabel does the smart thing and hands the journal over to him and receives _less _injury; or c) Mabel chooses neither, leaps from the prop and goes kersplat anyway. He'd had a few jumpers in the past when he'd come to collect his end of a deal. So unless she wanted to make a pretty little mess on the stage in front of EVERYONE the choice was obvious.

As much as he enjoyed toying with Shooting Star's loyalties he felt annoyed since she _still_ hadn't made said choice. His temper flared as he readjusted his grip on the rope when she didn't do what she was told- what was _logical_. (Hurry up and do what you're programmed to do, meat-bot! I've got places to be and big plans- _HUGE _plans- to unleash. Ahahahahaha!)

Besides, Shooting Star had no use for the journal. Her vested interest was based solely on her brother's. But that wouldn't measure up here; not when her play's success and her chances with Blondie hung in the balance. That was what this show was about. Shooting Star had been obsessing over it for a week because of Sock Boy. Things all came together as he saw her resolve crumbling...

"I mean, who would sacrifice everything they've worked for just for their dumb sibling?"

She paused, her hands still around the journal. It was weird, but he had the sudden urge to ask; 'was it something I said?' But he didn't. Because he knew Shooting Star's thought process, and she was in it for herself. Her reasoning was stupid, but she was only human. Most of the stuff they did made no sense to him anyway.

After all, looking out for your own interests was key. He had sub-lived his entire existence based on that principle. He lived for himself only, and at the end of time when he blinked out of existence, that fact will not have changed. Shooting Star lived by that principle too. If she hadn't, Pine Tree wouldn't have been desperate enough to make a deal with him. Humans were too easily drawn to helping other humans; making sacrifices for each other, even at the expense of themselves! But not Shooting Star. He could respect that.

Maybe he'd even let her live a bit longer as a reward for her compliance. It could be useful having his puppet's sister at his beck and call. Especially once the dimwitted townsfolk actually figured out that 'Dipper Pines' no longer existed. Plus he'd seen how she could manipulate people in her way- not as well as _him _of course, he was the master of that art- but she was loaded with charisma. All she had to do was dilate her pupils in that freaky way and stick out her bottom lip, and suddenly she had all her friends and family- even the stingy old man- helping her build her set and make her ugly little puppets. HA! He supposed she was a 'puppet master' in a sense too. It was impressive. He could use that to his advantage...

But something changed; she hadn't come to her senses like he'd advised, she'd _lost_ them. Then she said something that for the first time left him speechless: because he realized that he'd been misreading her; that she'd broke the parameters of the game; that he had... actually... been... _wrong_.

"Dipper would."

The journal_\- it had been **in** his grasp_\- was pulled away and he with it. Option D had not even existed. He didn't exactly imagine a situation where she'd manage to knock him half on top of her and they'd fall and break a wedding cake prop.

Option D had to be the worst choice _ever_.

The next minutes were a jumble of activity- one that even had him taking part in this ridiculous game of tug-of-war with her. Then after she'd actually managed to snatch the journal from him, he was left feeling skeptical. All the while her incriminating words rang through his mind;

_'Dipper would, Dipper would, Dipper would, Dipper __**would**__...'_

Turns out she wasn't so different from other flesh and bone wet suits. And maybe he was a _bit_ disappointed: interesting humans were hard to come by nowadays. She probably wouldn't be happy to know that without _morality_, her brand of 'fun' would look a lot like his. 'Morality' was so confining. It's too bad she chose to be locked in such a stifling cage. After tonight however, he realized he didn't know a thing about Shooting Star. Humanity was black and white to him, yet she didn't fit the scope. That's what made her intriguing.

Yanno, for a _human_.

* * *

***~ The Warning**

The annoying part was that he knew she wasn't doing it on purpose- it was simply _her_.

That didn't stop him from wanting to strangle her in her sleep though; just so he didn't have to think about this anymore. Apparently, he had additional screws to lose. Who'da thought?

No human had ever been able to hide their thoughts from him. He should have known (even before she did) about the idea to use Pine Tree's weaknesses against him. So how had she been able to stay one step ahead of him? That was the frustrating part. Every time he tried to peek into her mind it would shift to something else before he could tell what the previous thought had been.

Her thoughts and muses had been ridiculous the whole time too: initially her focus had been on getting to the journal first; the next, Sock Boy; the pink and purple stuffed unicorn her dad won for her when she was six; how to get him out of Pine Tree's body; what she wanted for lunch a week from Tuesday; MORE synthesized music; and the idea of using her brother's physical weaknesses against him. Afterwards, he swore she thought up a recipe for edible muffin cups- before he did a face plant.

Not only had he not been able to keep up with her physically, but mentally as well; _his_ territory. He'd thought she would do the logical thing- but how could he expect logic from a mind that defined illogic? He had the notion that he could spend forever trying to unravel her thoughts- and maybe that made her one of the most fascinating humans he'd ever met- and _maybe_ he was starting to favour her.

Lost in his own ramblings, he didn't notice the benumbed atmosphere of the mindscape shift until the object of his thoughts materialized in front of him.

"Hiya, Bill!" She waved, over-sized pink sweater arm flapping rhythmically. She was currently upside down.

"Your voice is sounding extra nasally today," she observed, "how goes it?"

Sudden- unwanted- appearances? That was _his_ thing! He was going to have to teach her the meaning of gimmick infringement! Snapping his fingers once, the mindscape inverted. Yet, she remained in place as the dimension upended. Even now, she defied him.

He considered the ghost for a moment.

"Tell me, Fictitious Shooting Star," he casually addressed, "how are you the exception to my rules? Why can't I accurately read your mind?"

His colour changed with his rising temper and a few orange splotches appeared. "Don't you know _WHO_ you're dealing with yet?"

She remained undaunted, silly grin still in place.

"Yeesh. You have no chill, huh?" she asked, "just relax and hit CTRL+U to become yellow again."

She turned herself right-side up on her own- Bill narrowed his eye- and snapped both her fingers, which caused a beige-coloured satchel with a long strap to materialize in her hands.

"Gaze into Mabel Pines's _Bag o' Mysterious Tricks_!" she declared, "come along now- I don't bite hard, what does your all-seeing eye detect?"

He blinked at his fabrication once- extremely doubtful, before floating over and peering inside.

It was crammed to the brim with all types of junk. From what he could tell: hairbands, spools of yarn, vials of cake decorating sprinkles, various 'inspirational' stickers and prototypes of her ugly sock puppets. Basically, it was all her favourite things crammed unrealistically into one tiny space.

"Ew." His pupil dilated. "What IS all that?"

"Girl stuff," she answered with a puzzling grin, "top secret, all-important, girl stuff. Not suitable for _boys_. Just ask my broseph."

Inwardly, he bristled about being called a 'boy' by some _kid_. But... why not. He'd play her little game. This could be an interesting experiment.

"What does all this have to do with anything?"

"Patience is for cool dream demons only, Mr. Triangle-Guy," she sang and let the purse float away from her a short distance, "basically, the content of this bag is a disorganized mess of paraphernalia all catered to me, right? But the thing is- _I_ know where everything is kept. I can find anything in less than two shakes of Waddles' curly tail."

She turned her head in the opposite direction of the purse and with a wave of her hand, the bag tilted on its side. Poking her tongue out in concentration, she blindly reached in.

"Want a bottle of my famous Mabel Juice?" she asked, "Cherry licorice-flavoured bubblegum? I've got plenty. Oh, I know! You need some stationary with cute little farm animals printed on the border. How about a sparkly gel pen? I've got blue, pink, purple and rainbow..."

Bill watched- somewhat fascinated- as she pulled out each named object consecutively in the order she called them, including the colours of the pens.

"Do you get it now?" she asked.

She was now slowly turning like a wheel while her favourite things floated in front of her.

"It doesn't matter if you're the 'master of the mind.'" she continued with air quotes, "in order to map out a person's thoughts, you have to use _some_ kind of logic based on who they are, right? Based on what you've seen them do. How ya gonna do that if she's got no objective reason for the things she does?"

"Who said this was about _you_, anyway? That's right, we were talking about _me_."

Bill regarded her in boredom, twirling a ball of blue flame. The concentrated energy made the atmosphere crackle with electric currents. Still, he wondered. Did her silly demonstration hold some merit to it? Was she really the only one who could crack through her own disorganized thoughts? It couldn't be, he could unravel and break apart _any_ mind.

Right, it was IMPOSSIBLE to block him. And by the way, any_ rumours_ about him not being as powerful as he claims were lies!

Nevertheless, this ghost was made in the image of someone who _had_ outsmarted him- once. She was unpredictable, _insane_ (not to his caliber, thank you very much!), and had thoughts that moved so quickly he couldn't keep up.

"Woah."

Imaginary Shooting Star stopped spinning and was now regarding him strangely.

"Did your eye just flash _red_?" she asked in a chirpy voice, "time to punch the time card. The May-train is rolling out the Dream Depot! All aboard!"

She disappeared in a flourish of smoldering pink smoke and glitter- taking her possessions with her- and Bill wondered briefly why he had made her so authentic.

* * *

***~ The Foreboding**

When the drab atmosphere of the mindscape darkened the more he thought about Shooting Star's role in things to come he took notice.

His body was transparent at the moment. When he'd looked into the unknown to see what her fate would be- it was blank; only the grayscale world reflected off his surface.

Well that was new.

As much as he hated to admit it (like, _really _hated- even more than synthesized music type hate); there were higher entities than him. They were unfathomable beings too; abominations that would cause a human to lose their nut if looked at directly, until their shell gave out from the shock. _They_ were the ones that governed him. Destroying the journals was key for keeping certain things a secret, but... if the tides changed and _they _wanted him out, then how?

The answer came in a familiar whisper: _be unpredictable_.

And with that thought came a crawling... spasm. Or something.

As long as she didn't get in his way, he might have left her to her own glitter and sticker-filled life. Pine Tree was the one getting too close to things he shouldn't. He needed to keep an eye on that one in particular. This little tale was centered around Pine Tree after all, not Shooting Star. Yet he couldn't shake the ensuing sensation that counting her out was a mistake. As he mused, he was distracted by a small inkling he couldn't ignore;

If he let her be... _she_ could actually mess up his future plans.

She had accomplished the impossible once and outsmarted him, could she do it again? What's more, could she be the one to save her brother from the inevitable final walk into the unknown; when the secrets of this town overwhelmed him? And hadn't she been the one to knock the combo to the safe away which cost him-

No, stop. He was getting ahead of himself- again!

In his current form, he had no weakness. Yet, being continuously thwarted by the most unexpected person seemed like something that would happen in Gravity Falls...

But not to _him_. NOBODY could win against him. He still needed the twins in mostly working order, but needed to instill enough fear in them both. That's why things hadn't ended worse for them. Humans' mental defenses were always at their weakest when they were afraid. He'd been decisive and systematic in the way he'd incapacitated the kid enough to implant that fear; rather than cause permanent physical damage. He'd been hyper aware of the knives hanging on the wall in the Pines' kitchen, but why would he wreck a perfectly good meat sack? The kid would be useful for future possessions. He'd been deliberate, ensuring the identification of the laptop stayed intact for that very reason. This would be far from the last time Pine Tree would be erased and Shooting Star would have to deal with the repercussions and him; in her brother's body.

The true impact he'd made was psychological. So while he was at it, why not get rid of one journal in the process? That was where he'd become careless. She hadn't ruined any of his plans- far from it actually. Yet she still managed to take him by surprise. After so much time had passed since his last possession, his memory of physical motor skills had faded and he forgot that he couldn't compensate for organic weaknesses, and clearly the kid's build didn't match up to his sister's yet; which gave her the advantage.

That's all it was. He'd merely overlooked one variable. Nothing could stand in his way now.

He blinked once as the crawling sensation grew; the infinite space surrounding him darkened with his thoughts.

'Impossible' was still just a word humans used when they refused to acknowledge their own potential, right?

_**Finis**_


End file.
